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Jacky Faber makes waves, even when docked in her adopted city of Boston to attend to the business of Faber Shipping Worldwide. With big dreams and perhaps too much exuberance for the Puritan populace, she quickly finds herself at odds with the Women’s Temperance Union and a town roiling over the arrival of hundreds of Irish laborers, brought in on Jacky’s Lorelei Lee. Thwarted at every turn by her enemies, Jacky is forced to acknowledge her shortcomings—and possibly lose her beloved Jaimy Fletcher. Will the impulsive Jacky Faber finally get her comeuppance?
- Sales Rank: #771528 in Books
- Published on: 2015-04-14
- Released on: 2015-04-14
- Original language: English
- Number of items: 1
- Dimensions: 8.25" h x .96" w x 5.50" l, .0 pounds
- Binding: Paperback
- 384 pages
From Booklist
Jacky Faber romps through another set of adventures when she returns to Boston and to the deck of the Nancy B. Alsop. Many, many characters from previous books make appearances here, but none is more notable than Jacky’s long-lost love, Jaimy, so heavily disguised that she doesn’t recognize him. Since fans of the Bloody Jack Adventure series know better than to hope for a conventional, romantic ending, they’ll enjoy the plot twist Meyer delivers in its place. The large cast of characters results in a panoramic view rather than a sharply focused drama, but look for Jacky at the focal point of every scene. Grades 8-10. --Carolyn Phelan
About the Author
L. A. Meyer (1942–2014) was the acclaimed writer of the Bloody Jack Adventure series, which follows the exploits of an impetuous heroine who has fought her way up from the squalid streets of London to become an adventurer of the highest order. Mr. Meyer was an art teacher, an illustrator, a designer, a naval officer, and a gallery owner. All of those experiences helped him in the writing of his curious tales of the beloved Jacky Faber. Visit www.jackyfaber.com for more information on the author and his books.
�
Excerpt. � Reprinted by permission. All rights reserved.
Chapter 1
���
“Boston! Hooray!” I exult, as the tall church steeples of the city come into view.
���I’m up on the crow’s nest as lookout as we enter the harbor, and I can barely contain my excitement. The USA again! I’m free and not being chased for once, and I will see my friends soon! And, and, oh, joy!
���The schooner Margaret Todd put her nose into Massa- chusetts Bay this morning and headed north up the harbor with a fine wind behind her—which was very good, for it means we shall not have to row her into the dock. That is backbreaking work, and we poor sailors are glad not to have to do it.
���We slip between Lovell and Great Brewster Islands and then hard left! and so we turn, leaving Thompson to starboard, and then there’s Spectacle Island—getting close now, girl—another small turn to the right, and then into Boston Harbor. I can smell the fish markets from here and to me, after four weeks of clean, bracing salt-sea air, it smells right good. I am a city girl at heart, when not sailing, and can put up with a bit of stench when I hit the land.
���“On deck there!” I shout down. “Small lugger to starboard! Should pass us to the right, Sir, no trouble. two barges coming down to port. Well clear!” There is traffic in this fine harbor, Boston being a bustling port and all. Captain S. F. Pagels looks up at me and nods. He is a thoroughgoing seaman and knows this harbor like the back of his hand.
���“Steady as she goes,” he says to his helmsman, a man as seasoned in his skill as is the captain in his.
���Then, from the topmast, a voice is raised in song . . .
���
���Oh, I thought I heard the Old Man say, Leave her, Jacky, leave her!
���Tomorrow you will get your pay, And it’s time for you to leave her!
���
���I grin down at the rogues on deck who are giving voice to this song. The crew know I’m getting off in Boston and feel it right and proper to sing me off with this song. They and the Margaret Todd are headed up to Eden, their home port on Mount Desert Island, and they are glad to be getting back to wives and sweethearts, but not, I believe, so glad to get rid of me. They are a jolly pack of dogs, and I will hate to see them go.
���
���The work was hard an’ the voyage was long, Leave her, Jacky, leave her!
���The sea was high and the gales was strong, And it’s time for you to leave her!
���
It’s like a tradition, an end-of-voyage song, wherein the crew get to air their grievances and get back a bit at the captain. That’s why it’s always sung only at the end of a voyage, and not during . . . and only if the captain is a decent cove, which captain Pagels, praise be, is.
���
���The grub was bad an’ the wages low, Leave her, Jacky, leave her!
���But now once more ashore you’ll go, It’s time for you to leave her!���
Oh, and I am ready to leave her, count on that. true, the wages were, indeed, low, but the Maggie Todd got me from Gibraltar to here, and for that I thank her. She did take her time getting here—sailing first to Savannah to drop off her cargo of Spanish cloth, then down to Jamaica to pick up kegs of molasses. and oh, those barrels were heavy and I was not spared in the loading of them, no I was not . . .
���The winds were foul, all work and no play, Leave her, Jacky, leave her!
���From the Liverpool Docks up to Boston Bay, It’s time for you to leave her!
���
���And then back up to charleston to deliver and to take on mail and then on to New York. Finally, here to Boston, dear old Beantown, oh, yes!
���
���We’ll make her fast an’ stow our gear, Leave her, Jacky, leave her!
�� The girls are awaitin’ on the pier, And it’s time for you to leave her!�
���Hmmm . . . There is a girl awaitin’, but she ain’t on the pier, and she ain’t up here in the foretop, neither. oh no, she’s right down below on the deck, and I know her eyes are filling with tears. This was the way of it:
���I had shipped on this bark at Gibraltar in my sailor-boy disguise, something I have done before and generally gotten away with. I figured things would go easier on me that way and, too, I would be paid seaman’s wages, which was good since I was dead broke. If I had announced I was a girl, they would not have taken me on as a member of the crew, and with no money to pay my fare, I’d still be standing on that dock in southern Spain.
���The trip over was a good one—all us coves sitting around the potbellied stove, swapping tales and singing songs—all cozy in this winter crossing, when we weren’t up on deck freezing our toes off, that is. The crew was mostly older men—middle-aged and well-seasoned sailors—and then me in my seaman’s togs. There was, however, a compli- cation. Captain Pagels had his wife and daughter along, and therein lay the problem, for the daughter, Griselda, took an immediate shine to young Jack the Sailor.
���Why did she like me? I dunno . . . But then, why shouldn’t she? She was at the starry-eyed stage of her life when all was potential, shiny and new, and nothing was old and dull . . . so she did not necessarily dream of the heavily whiskered men of her father’s crews. and here’s downy-cheeked Jack the Sailor, no threat at all to her maidenly virtue, a virtue I sensed early on she was right willing to give up to young Jack. Down in the fo’c’s’le, we had many a fine story and song. I got not a few ribald gibes concerning the captain’s lovely daughter, but I bore up under it, blushing and looking away.
���So I very carefully gave her a shipboard romance, since there seemed no way to avoid it . . . and it was a very innocent romance you may be sure. She was but fifteen and quite pretty and, I gotta say, for a kid, she was quite amorous.
���So what was the harm in that? None, as I see it. She’ll always remember this cruise most fondly, as memories seem to glow more golden as the years pass. Ah, yes, but what of the parting that must now come, and what to do about a young girl’s tears?
���This morning, before we entered the harbor, she came to me by the base of the third mast, well out of sight of her father, who stood on his quarterdeck, preparing to con his ship down the channel. I took her shoulders in my hands, looked deep into her brimming blue eyes, and spouted out the most awful, high-sounding nonsense . . .
���“Oh, Griselda, it grieves me to the depths of my poor soul, but I must go now and leave you, love. I know that it is the best thing to do for I am but a poor, penniless sailor and you are the fine daughter of a rich merchant captain. While I will always be poor and penniless, you shall go out in society and become a fine lady. You will be admired by all and you shall marry a great man. and I . . . I will remain married to my true mistress . . .”
���At this point I put my hand on my breast and look out across the water and conclude with a heavy sigh . . .
“. . . the sea.”
���Yes, I had a hard time keeping a straight face, but I do think I let her down as easy as I could. She snuffled and buried her face in my front, and we remained that way till I was called away to the foretop.�
���
���Now I thought I heard the Old Man say, Leave her, Jacky, leave her!
���One more good heave and then belay, And it’s time for you to leave her!�
���And it is, indeed, time for me to leave her, so off the Margaret Todd I bounce. On my way down, right by the gangway, amidst all the cheers and catcalls, one grizzled old cove, Thaddeus Smathers, by name, grabs my arm. He winks broadly at me and whispers into my ear, “Ye didn’t fool me for a minute, no ye didn’t, Jacky Faber! Good sailin’ to ye, lass!” I gulp and press on. One more soulful glance back at Griselda, standing bereft at the rail, and I am off.
���So I rambled back into Boston town, and here I am again, stepping onto the old familiar ground.
���I mean to go to the Pig and Whistle, see Maudie, take rooms, order up a bath, and generally freshen up before going to visit my other friends. and I need to check out the lay of the land. After all, there are some around here who feel quite strongly that I should be serving out my life sentence in the penal colony in Botany Bay, Australia. So I must be careful.
���Ah, dear old Boston, I think as I walk up State Street.
���
Poor Jack the Sailor, home at last, clad in sturdy sailor gear with seabag on my shoulder, and soaking in all the old familiar sights. There’s Ezra Pickering’s office, and there’s the fa�ade of Faber Shipping Worldwide. Oh, how it gladdens my heart to see it, the sign above its doorway all gilt and gold and black and deep maroon and the Blue anchor flag flapping merrily above.
���But no, I do not stop. I press on and round the corner, my dry throat ready for a mug of the Pig’s good strong ale, and . . . and then I am shocked to my core.
���The Pig is dead.
���The dear old Pig and Whistle is closed. Heavy boards are nailed over its windows and door, and its sign bearing the happy fat pig playing on his pennywhistle and dancing a merry jig is faded and peeling, and it hangs lopsided by a single hinge, twisting sadly in the breeze.
���As I stand disconsolate, I hear what sounds like a parade coming down the street . . . There is the beating of drums and the shouting of a chant.
���“Suffrage, now! Votes for women, now! Equality, now! Now! Now!”
���Then, from around a corner comes a crowd of women, formed in a column of three rows across, all dressed in black, looking very grim, and most bearing banners of some sort—all of which echo the chant: Suffrage, now! Votes for women, now! Equality, now! Now! Now!
���I stand astounded, for whom should I see in the third row, second rank, holding a sign and looking very resolute, but . . .
���Amy? Amy Trevelyne?
���
“Amy!” I call out and wave, unable to suppress my joy at seeing my dear friend yet again.
���Shocked, she looks over to see this merry sailor boy clad in white canvas trousers, middy top, and sailor cap, with seabag on shoulder and open-mouthed smile on face.
���She drops her sign and gasps, “JACKY?”
���
���
Most helpful customer reviews
19 of 24 people found the following review helpful.
"Only Bitterness Remains"
By FredTownWard
What a wretched, unpleasant read!
Though I had little hope this book would offer a resolution to the most star crossed relationship in literary history, I did hope for a somewhat light romp of an adventure in Jacky Faber's adopted hometown of Boston. Instead I got another wallow fest in misery, degradation, and betrayal for the title character, somewhat like the similar wallow fest in "The Wake of the Lorelei Lee", but with two important differences. The first is the placement. In the earlier book the depressing degradation is mostly at the beginning of the book, allowing for a happy ending; in this book it is mostly at the end, making for a truly unhappy ending. The second is the source. In the earlier book her enemies are the ones doing this to her; in this book too many of the ones doing this to her are her friends or at least people she's done a lot of good for. (Jacky has a lot of faults, but stinginess in sharing her help and her good fortune with her companions is not one of them.) Even long suffering Jaimy Fletcher, who Lord knows had reasons enough to swear off Jacky for good several books ago, ends up doing so (Any bets on how permanently?) in this book due to trickery and treachery, and, it must be added, with a good deal of hypocrisy considering his own past conduct.
I'm absolutely confident author L. A. Meyers will get everything back to normal in the next book, but I'm tired of what passes for normal in a Jacky Faber book, and I've only read four: The Wake of the Lorelei Lee: Being an Account of the Further Adventures of Jacky Faber, on Her Way to Botany Bay, The Mark of the Golden Dragon: Being an Account of the Further Adventures of Jacky Faber, Jewel of the East, Vexation of the West, Viva Jacquelina!: Being an Account of the Further Adventures of Jacky Faber, Over the Hills and Far Away, and Boston Jacky: Being an Account of the Further Adventures of Jacky Faber, Taking Care of Business.
I'm tired of Jacky being faithful to Jaimy in her fashion by doing everything short of sex with every good looking male she encounters. I'm tired of Jaimy being insanely jealous when his own conduct does not give him any right to. I'm tired of the increasingly contrived machinations that keep these two apart while never quite convincing them to give up on each other. I'm tired of villains who return book after book. I'm tired of suitors who never give up. I'm tired of trust given and betrayed and given again and betrayed again. And even though as far as I know she's only been at it for two books now, I'm tired of Jacky Faber's all purpose non-lethal method of dealing with bad guys being to trick them into ingesting opium or hallucinogenic mushrooms and thus getting them uncontrollably randy and naked in prudish public.
Most of all I am tired of reading a new Jacky Faber book and feeling I've read it before.
5 of 5 people found the following review helpful.
The Thankfully Continued Adventures of Jacky Faber
By Pampered.Pixie
In this, the eleventh installment of the Jacky Faber books, Miss Faber returns to Boston where she faces her usual trials with a cast of largely familiar characters. While it is true these adventures have been going on for quite some time (this is the eleventh in the series after all) I'm so grateful to Mr. Meyer for his continued writings on the doings of Jacky Faber. I have been loving these books since I was twelve. Now I am seventeen and I anxiously await each one as it comes out. Jacky manages to make her way around the world during a very historically exciting time. In "Boston Jacky" the reader gets a picture of the reluctance early America had in accepting Irish immigrants due to their willingness to work rough jobs for low wages. The early American temperance and suffrage movement is also examined and I personally enjoyed reading about the conservative nature of the women hoping to gain the right to vote. (In my history classes, its been taught that women deserved the right to vote and they got that right in 1912 but we often don't address their political stands so it was interesting to read through Jacky's perspective.) I am unbelievable frustrated with romantic aspects of these books but I understand that it is the style of series and were everyone happy and settled down with their one true love it would be a rather uninteresting story. For those feeling "tired" or "worn out" from years of these adventures I want to remind you that these are adventure books and the structure is like that of many old adventure series be them movies, TV shows, radio shows, or other books. There is a hero or in our case a heroin (Jacky) seeking love (Jaimy) and hopefully some adventure and riches which often results in mishaps. I encourage readers who are unsure whether to continue reading these books to think of it as a wonderful time with characters you know and enjoy reading about. These books are a joy to read and have gotten me through the start of many school years. I would absolutely recommend this book and I can honestly say I enjoyed every minute of it and I could not put it down!
I look forward to your next adventure Jacky!
7 of 8 people found the following review helpful.
Jacky Faber's adventures, continued
By M. Tanenbaum
In her latest adventure, the spirited pirate, schoolgirl, and current ceo and pub owner Jacky Faber finds herself at odds with the law, old friends, and even the Women's Temperance Union. Although it won't win awards for historical accuracy or realism, the series lives up to its reputation as a unique rousing adventure starring a plucky heroine who stands out from the crowd of boy obsessed shoppaholics who dominate novels aimed at teenage girls. Luckily for readers, Jacky spends more of the novel singing jaunty sailor tunes, shocking the political establishment, and performing in her own cliched yet hilarious plays than she does pining after her lost lover, Jaimy Fletcher, who was featured too prominently in many of the previous novels. This installment is a perfect example of why Jacky's exploits never fail to entertain readers or become too repetitive, even after she has traveled halfway around the world.
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